


What You Painted in the Storm

by lmaoU_thought



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blind!Keith, M/M, helpful!Lance, ill add as stuff happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-04 07:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmaoU_thought/pseuds/lmaoU_thought
Summary: Keith sits alone in his studio, absent-mindedly running the bristles of the paint brush between his thumb and pointer fingers. He turns his head towards the sound of a door opening and counts the footsteps in his direction,"Lance?" The scent of smoky forests and spearmint stung Keith's nose and he smiled, softening up. He turned in the tall stool, trying to face the now stopped male, a small hum emitting from his throat."Welcome back."





	What You Painted in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> welcoe 2 trash
> 
> This story is gonna be told from Keith's pov so actions aren't really important, seeing as queef cant see. So its going to be a lot of the other five senses. like sensing peoples precense, listening hyperactively, intense flavors, vivid smells, and light touches on foreign objects. Keith's probably gonna have a panic attack so there's that. I don't have a schedule, so comment to inspire me I guess???? constructive criticism is great too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> theres a big murder so skip this chapter if you're not good with blood or family things rip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is really short lol bc its like keiths back story and what happened to his parents and blah.

Mornings are warm blankets and soft kisses pressed to your forehead. They're the smell of dew and fresh baked pastries. Keith's mothers' creations always came wafting up from the quaint little bakery his parents owned. Mornings were happiness and tripping down stairs and smiles and grabbing at his mothers dress. The mornings where he woke up to the news that they would be painting were the best. It was one of those mornings when it happened. He was ushered into a pantry in their kitchen by hushed voices and gentle nudges when he heard a scream and heavy footsteps, blood-curdling cries ripping through the acoustic kitchen. It bounced of every surface and right back to Keith's ears. He'll never forget how the voices he once heard sing and make small talk with regular customers were broken so easily. He only dared to leave the pantry after what felt like an hour, he was waiting and waiting for his parents to come back in and tell him to wash up for finger painting. He didn't know they were dead until he tripped over his fathers shoulder and onto the same chest he's hugged numorus times. Only this time there was a gaping hole and an odd lukewarm liquid surrounding him. The air smelled so thickly of copper that he knew they were dead. Four or not, his parents were gone. He layed in his fathers limp arms and sobbed and begged until he was found, covered in some of the last remains of his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who found him??? who killed his parents???? whys it so fucking short????? all will be reviled when Quinn stops being fucking lazy. constructive criticism is appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I cant write lol follow me on my tumblr lmao-uthought so u can ask stuff n stuff.  
> thanks to my beta boyfriend (keithsleftnut on tumblr) for doing the checking thing lol.  
> ill try to get a schedule but honestly ill update when I can Susan.


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